


A Life Worth Saving

by xo_thefirst



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Implied/Referenced Character Death of Very Minor Characters, M/M, MAMA Era Powers (EXO), Past Relationship(s), Possible Confusing Timeline
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-10
Updated: 2019-08-10
Packaged: 2020-08-13 00:49:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20165404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xo_thefirst/pseuds/xo_thefirst
Summary: Any form of resurrection is forbidden.Though, Chanyeol doesn't really have a choice.





	A Life Worth Saving

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cherrybaeks](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherrybaeks/gifts).

Chanyeol doesn’t remember the time spent on a battlefield. He doesn’t even remember the faces of his enemies, but he does remember the fear in their eyes, how they stare at him like he’s some god of _death_, and he relishes in the screams that rip from their lips when he sets them all on fire. He watches his flames dance along their flesh, burying its way deep into their bodies to destroy them from the inside out, and he lets loose the tiniest of smiles as he listens for the silence that follows. He feels the life burning within his mind and this, he thinks, _this_ is when living becomes beautiful, _enchanting_ even. It’s all so wonderful and all so bright, he can’t think of any other way to live.

_Once you’re done admiring your work, move onto the next_.

As the bodies finally crumble to ash, Chanyeol realizes that something is off. It’s in the air around him, signaling to him that something is different, but it also gives him enough presence of mind to know that whatever it is, it’s dangerous. And, to him, danger is simply another addition to the beauty of death.

_Stop stalling, Chanyeol_.

It’s easy to scoff at the voice in his head, but he doesn’t deny the orders. He follows them easily enough. The only traces he’s been in the area are the singe marks on the ground and the layer of ashes floating through the wind.

Sometimes, it feels like his time spent on a battlefield shortens. It’s different, _annoying_ even, but sometimes, he can’t help how time flows when he has to physically battle someone else. He isn’t even sure who he’s fighting. The only clue he receives is when he sees a shield of ice appear out of nowhere, causing him to stumble back, if only for a moment.

He stays still, then, watches as this shield of ice stands in front of twenty more men, and Chanyeol knows that the flames that escape him will appear more beautiful than it has before. He waits to see what his enemies will do. They’re still, eerily so, and he’s pleased to see the one in front lift a hand. He’s sending a type of signal to the rest of the men and he watches, in momentary surprise, as a woman hidden within the group breaks off from the rest. She disappears into the trees behind them and Chanyeol finds he wants to see what she will do, what she’s even capable of.

_You seem to be enjoying yourself. Take your time_.

Or maybe she’s simply another messenger.

The man before him lowers his hand, then. He continues to stare at him without any other indication of emotion and Chanyeol is infinitely more pleased when he’s able to retaliate, use his power close to his maximum, because then the man slams his hands down on the ground next to him. Shields of ice break through the earth to weave its way throughout the rest of his group, but it’s a silly gesture. It makes Chanyeol laugh in his mind, feeling the way spikes of ice pierce his body from all angles.

_Ice has always been weak to fire_, he wants to say. His flames melt the offending intruder and he watches as it heals his body within moments afterwards. _That’s a new ability_, he wants to murmur out loud, holding an arm out and watching as another spike of ice pierces his forearm. It doesn’t even hurt, but it doesn’t really matter anyways. He could spare it another thought, because he’s becoming bored again. The beauty of the ice shatters almost instantaneously and that isn’t any fun. It doesn’t linger. It doesn’t leave any traces of _what might’ve been_ and Chanyeol glances at the man in front of him before he sets him on fire, too.

To his credit, the only screams that are heard are from the worried nineteen behind him. He shouldn’t have expected a lot, considering the man with ice alludes to experience in battle, and Chanyeol is surprised when he sees the man completely cover himself in his element. It appears as if from thin air, but really, all his enemy is doing is delaying the entire process of destruction. It’s inevitable, after all.

And, honestly, it’s such a shame to delay such art from being made.

Chanyeol slides his hand over to the side, the edge of where this particular group has tried to shield him from going further into the forest, and closes his hand. Flames erupt on the men themselves and he feels satisfaction flood him when he can hear their screams of agony, can see the way this leader of theirs rushes to cover them with ice to put out his flames.

_Who knew such power can be obtained from such a weak substance?_

Chanyeol wastes no time in disposing of this team. Though, he does linger long enough to see their leader, their _team captain_, hover on the edge of life and death like the persistent bastard he probably is outside of the battlefield.

_Leave him. I would like to see how he evolves_.

It’s all Chanyeol needs to turn and walk away, heading towards his next location.

There are hundreds of enemies. They all section off into smaller groups, and Chanyeol is treated to the sight of seeing a few other elementals in their grasps. It’s entertaining, to some degree, to see how they fair against his fire, but he knows how good he is at it, how _amazing_ he is in battle when he’s called forth to participate in it.

He never leaves a warrior behind unless he sees potential in an even greater battle and, so far, he’s been instructed to leave all those with notable powers alive. It doesn’t make sense in the slightest, but he assumes it’ll only make the beauty of their deaths even greater than what it could be at this exact moment. It’ll make it easier to test the limits of his own later on, to see how far he is capable of reaching, until he meets his peak and becomes one of the most beautiful beings on this planet, if only for a moment.

_Twenty kilometers, ten o’clock_.

Chanyeol looks from the burning bones to the direction he’s informed. He knows it’s another group of enemies, probably making their way towards him to provide additional support of some kind for their comrades, but it’s too late—it usually is. It would be a waste for his art to not receive the appropriate amount of respect and awe as all his other subjects. He glances back to the bones to see they’ve almost all crumble to ash by the weight and heat of his flames.

_Stay, if you wish. It may be easier to confront them there_.

Chanyeol finds he doesn’t mind. He simply continues watching his artwork complete its course, as precious time is taken, bit by bit, until there’s nothing left for his flames to eat.

“Chanyeol.”

Chanyeol lifts an eyebrow at the man in front of him. His hand is already stretched out, to the people to the left behind the leader, and he pauses long enough for the other man to understand that he’s actually _waiting_ for him to say something other than his name. It isn’t all that strange to know who he is—he had hoped that his name would’ve appeared somewhere, with how he deals with his enemies—, but this man intrigues him.

There isn’t an expression of fear or hatred in his eyes. Concern is written all over his features, but even he can tell it isn’t solely for his comrades behind him, who he’s in charge to protect. It appears as though he isn’t even attempting to fight him. His posture alludes to a state of relaxation, of _trust_, and Chanyeol can’t comprehend why.

“Chan—”

All it takes is the simple thought of flames bursting to life for it to occur to the men’s comrades. Screams of panic and fear fill the air and it makes Chanyeol relax, catching glimpses of his art springing to life before it’s suddenly cut short. There are singe marks on some of the men’s clothes and there are blisters forming on the bare skin of others, but there isn’t any other indication that’d explain why his flames suddenly disappeared.

He attempts once more, hearing the sharp inhale of breath of some, and then his fire is gone not a moment later. It causes him to frown, to stare them directly in the eyes, because he’s _offended_.

_Chanyeol, what’s wrong?_

“Fall back,” the man in front of him orders. It makes Chanyeol snap his attention to him instead of the others flanking him, and Chanyeol glances all around to watch as the other men hesitantly move their way back into the safety of the trees. No one protests. No one attempts to stay with their leader, and Chanyeol has now added irritated confusion to his person. After all, if his opponent isn’t the greatest, he’d prefer to have multiple subjects under his will to watch instead of one. “Chanyeol,” the man voices again, catching his attention. A few measly trees is all they are. It’ll be easy to burn the entire forest down. “You don’t remember.”

It isn’t a question. It’s a statement of fact and Chanyeol doesn’t understand what this man is saying. He doesn’t know what he’s alluding to, so he tilts his head the slightest bit, tries to study this man longer than he’s used to, because if this man is something worth remembering, then surely, he’d remember.

Except, he doesn’t.

“Chanyeol.” It’s starting to sound like a call. For what, though, he isn’t sure. The concern on this man’s face flits to something else—something more negative like regret—and Chanyeol glances back to the trees to see the men armed and ready to attack at a word’s notice. “Your power is beautiful,” the man says softly. It’s enough to make Chanyeol lower his hand. “Together, our power can be the most beautiful thing on this earth.”

_Chanyeol_—

“But you have to rest now,” the man finishes saying.

And suddenly, Chanyeol is reminded of simpler times. He’s reminded of running through a kingdom, with this man at his side. They’re laughing, falling together, laying on a hill to watch the setting sun and the stars peek out to play. He’s reminded of countless other battles, where they were sent out to support each other, because air and fire can have the most devastating effect and that’s where they were needed most to keep their kingdom safe. He’s reminded of soft skin, warming up underneath his own heat, and soft gasps that tell of _more_ and _love_. He’s reminded of screaming for this man to run, for— “Sehun,” he whispers, “Run.”

Every fire that pops into existence is easily taken out. It’s come to the point where air and fire mix negatively that his power becomes useless under Sehun’s controlling wind.

Chanyeol doesn’t understand. All he can see is Sehun’s sad eyes and— “What’s going on?” He grunts when he’s forced back by an invisible block of air smashing into his chest. He skids backwards, and he suddenly realizes he doesn’t even need to breathe to stay alive. His flames heal the wounds on his chest and he’s reminded of fighting the enemy so Sehun can escape, so Sehun can _live_, because he’s his greatest artwork yet, cultivated with his love and warmth. Chanyeol has always wanted to protect him. “Sehun—”

A gentle breeze cools him. It stops the memories from overwhelming his mind. It makes him search for Sehun, to push an elbow up underneath him to be able to see his love walking towards him with a power he didn’t know he had.

“It’s been thirteen years,” Sehun says quietly. The pain is evident in his eyes, the way his lips twist down into a frown, and Chanyeol can see the tears forming in them. “Chanyeol, you died thirteen years ago.”

The words slam into him harder than the gust of wind that settles on his chest, a constant downward flow to keep him rooted to his spot. “Thirteen?” he asks quietly, genuinely surprised. He thinks back to his memories, to remember seeing a younger Sehun than he does right at this moment. He stills when he feels a stray stream of air lift up his shirt, until the mark on his chest is visible for Sehun to see. It feels weird, to feel his heart break, when he sees Sehun actually cry in front of him.

“I thought,” Sehun whispers, though his power on him doesn’t lessen in the slightest. The mark was created to know it was truly him, one of their own, only one of their originals within the kingdom who had power greater than any other. “Chanyeol, we found your body. We buried you.” He bites his lip then. Somehow, a smile breaks through. “Minseok and Junmyeon are alive. You left them alive.” When he heaves a sigh, his winds move with him. “I didn’t expect them to use you.”

“Sehun” slips out of Chanyeol’s mouth before he can even register what’s going on.

“We’re in the middle of a war, Chanyeol,” Sehun divulges, taking another step forward, before landing on one knee before him. “I prayed that you would find peace. I prayed for your safety. This war is closing soon and I had hoped that the enemy wouldn’t bring you back as well to fight for them.”

Chanyeol can no longer hear the voice in his head.

“Chanyeol, love,” Sehun continues on. It’s weird how Chanyeol can feel a gust of air caress his cheek. “Are you back with us?”

It’s weirder, yet, how Chanyeol can hear the rustling of the leaves that sound different than when moved by the winds around him. He can hear the shouting of Sehun’s soldiers, of metal clanging together, and he glances to the side away from Sehun in front of him to see winds whipping around and attacking the enemy’s reinforcements. It takes less than a second for Chanyeol to merge his fire with Sehun’s air, saving Sehun’s comrades easily as the enemy forces are taken down within moments.

The small smile that blooms on Sehun’s face is Chanyeol’s greatest treasure ever.

It takes a minute longer for Chanyeol to regain control of himself, to imitate taking a deep breath and exhaling it, because he doesn’t quite remember how long it’s been since he was last on this earth. “Fill me in?” he asks quietly, feels Sehun’s winds on him lessen until there’s nothing left. “The war must be bad to bring somebody back to life to fight for them,” he murmurs, closing his eyes and remembering seeing bright yellow everywhere. Resurrection is forbidden, to any degree, and yet, here he is. His eyes snap open when he feels a hand land on his abdomen.

“You weren’t the only one brought back,” Sehun answers. Chanyeol notices the ring on his left fourth finger. “It’s been a long thirteen years, Chanyeol, but our power will always be greatest together.” More reinforcements appear and it takes a fleeting thought for Chanyeol to incinerate them to the ground as well. “Kyungsoo got brought back as well. Jongin had said you would be next.”

Memories of Kyungsoo sift through his mind—growing up with him, training with him, fighting alongside him. “Where is he now?” he asks. There’s hesitance in Sehun’s eyes, but Chanyeol doesn’t make another move.

“He wasn’t as reasonable as you.”

“And what of the rest of our friends?” he slowly asks. He feels lost, which he assumes is an appropriate reaction to this situation, because when is it ever reasonable to return from the dead for a war that’s been going on longer than any of their lives? “How long will I be here?”

Sehun’s lips twist again, into a frown. “I don’t know” is his simple answer. “Reinforcements are being sent to aide Jongdae” is his more elaborate one, though it doesn’t give much else in terms of additional information.

There’s a moment, a painstakingly long moment, where they stare at each other. They easily dispose of any enemies coming for them without so much as a simple thought. Chanyeol is surprised by how much Sehun has grown without him, how much he’s evolved and become increasingly beautiful over the years.

“I’m glad you found love,” Chanyeol eventually whispers, feeling his heart ache, or what’s left of it anyways. He smiles at Sehun’s shocked expression, the way he tries to cover the ring on his hand. “I’m glad you found safety back then.” It hurts, but what can they expect when they grew up in the middle of a war? Life is fleeting and it’s expected to end sooner rather than later. He stifles a laugh when he sees Sehun’s lips twitch with discomfort. It’s easier than dealing with anything else going on right now. “Sehun,” he says gently, relishes in the way Sehun’s fingers dig into his abdomen a bit more, steels himself for something they don’t even know how to begin understanding.

Sehun rolls his eyes then. He stands, holding a hand out towards him, and Chanyeol takes it without a second thought. “I’ve become much stronger over the years. The guilt returns every now and then, but,” he shrugs then, looks away to his comrades, “I should be thankful that I’m able to have a moment like this with you, one last time.”

“Lieutenant has sent us our next coordinates!” one of Sehun’s comrades informs. It’s enough for Chanyeol to raise an eyebrow at Sehun, notice the way the other heaves a deep sigh. “I also informed him of… him,” he finishes awkwardly. “As long as he is on our side, he reports.”

“Jongin became lieutenant three years ago,” Sehun explains, before he’s walking away. “Since you’ve come to your senses, you will be joining my team in tearing down the enemy one by one until they’re no longer existent. Move out!”

It’s strange to see how obvious Sehun has grown. It makes the warmth in his chest spread, to see a different type of beauty up close, and he smiles as he shakes his head at the thought. “You know,” he calls out, watches as Sehun stills long enough to look over his shoulder at him. “I didn’t expect to ever be resurrected like in the stories of old. I guess I have to put in my worth to make this last as long as possible.”

The amusement that dances in Sehun’s eyes gives him a different type of brightness—of _life_—that Chanyeol wouldn’t expect to see in this scenario.

“Whoever said time wasn’t on your side, make them see hell.”

Chanyeol has no idea what he’s talking about, but he guesses he can ask about it on the way to the next location. “You still haven’t filled me in on what’s going on around here and why this enemy of yours decided to bring me back to fight for them,” he mentions, jogging to catch up to him. “I’m also curious to see who you married.” He tries not to think, ‘_since we know it wasn’t me_.’

The flush that spreads across Sehun’s cheeks can’t be explained in any other way except for the question about his personal life. It makes the most sense, anyways. But then, Sehun laughs. “I can’t believe I’m talking to the love of my life again,” he muses, turning those sparkling eyes to see him again. “I’m sure Jongin is getting a kick out of this.” His smile fades, but the happiness in his eyes don’t and Chanyeol pauses next to him. “I hope, this time, we will all have the time to say what we need to say to you, and that you’ll hear us.”

Chanyeol still isn’t sure what to say to that, how he should even begin comprehending what’s going on, but then again, being brought back to life from the dead is already hard enough to understand. He hums, then, exchanges a glance with Sehun and tries to force back the thoughts of ‘_if only I was strong enough, if only I had been there longer, if only I hadn’t sacrificed my_—’

But then, Sehun wouldn’t be alive, and maybe none of them would’ve made it to where they are now if Chanyeol didn’t die all those years ago.

“We will end this war and we will win.”

_If only time was on our side back then_.

**Author's Note:**

> i'm not sure but i hope my recipient enjoys this story the littlest bit. it's something new i've been wanting to try but sadly, i think i could've gone a lot more in-depth with this if Real Life wasn't getting in the way so often :(
> 
> i also apologize for the fic not being more pairing-centric instead of chanyeol-centric :(


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